THIRTY MINUTES LEFT.
"Hey, happy birthday, I hear," Dominguez said.
Eddie grunted.
"No party or nothing?"
Eddie looked at him as if he were crazy. For a moment he thought
how strange it was to be growing old in a place that smelled of cotton
candy.
"Well, remember, Eddie, I'm off next week, starting Monday. Going
to Mexico."
Eddie nodded, and Dominguez did a little dance.
"Me and Theresa. Gonna see the whole family. Par-r-r-ty."
He stopped dancing when he noticed Eddie staring.
"You ever been?" Dominguez said.
"Been?"
"To Mexico?"
Eddie exhaled through his nose. "Kid, I never been anywhere I wasn't
shipped to with a rifle."
He watched Dominguez return to the sink. He thought for a moment.
Then he took a small wad of bills from his pocket and removed the only
twenties he had, two of them. He held them out.
"Get your wife something nice," Eddie said.
Dominguez regarded the money, broke into a huge smile, and said,
"C'mon, man. You sure?"
Eddie pushed the money into Dominguez's palm. Then he walked out
back to the storage area. A small "fishing hole" had been cut into the
boardwalk planks years ago, and Eddie lifted the plastic cap. He tugged
on a nylon line that dropped 80 feet to the sea. A piece of bologna was
still attached.
"We catch anything?" Dominguez yelled. "Tell me we caught
something!"
Eddie wondered how the guy could be so optimistic. There was never
anything on that line.
"One day," Dominguez yelled, "we're gonna get a halibut!"
"Yep," Eddie mumbled, although he knew you could never pull a fish
that big through a hole that small.